


Sing for Me

by TimeSorceror



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anders Positive, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bottom Fenris (Dragon Age), First Time, Laughter During Sex, M/M, Negotiations, Safe Sane and Consensual, Top Anders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 12:56:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11275728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimeSorceror/pseuds/TimeSorceror
Summary: Fenris and Anders have been sharing a bed for some time because it helped improve their sleep. Inevitably this led to them entering into an actual relationship, and tonight they've agreed to have sex for the first time. Fenris discovers that Anders makes some rather unusual noises during the act... and finds that he likes them. Very much.





	Sing for Me

**Author's Note:**

> There's a bit more angst here than just straight up smut should have, but at least it didn't take me like ten chapters to get here. :P
> 
> For [handraste](http://handraste.tumblr.com/). Enjoy your "Anders goes nya~ during sex" smut. ;D

Fenris heard the door close downstairs and he nearly jumped out of his skin. One hand clutched at his shirt above his heart, which beat so violently against his chest, and he breathed harshly while his nerves scattered about his brain. 

How could he have gone so far into his own mind that he hadn’t noticed the door open? He _always_ noticed the door opening.

It was too dangerous not to. Danarius wasn’t dead _yet_.

Fenris tensed as the intruder advanced and footsteps echoed up to the second floor, punctuated by an off-beat _thud, thud, thud_. The sound of a staff, clunking up the stairs as the intruder ascended. He reached for his weapon, and hid behind an armoire, his back flat against the cool, stiff wood. The mage–for the intruder must be a mage, to carry a staff–seemed to be making their way directly towards his room, as though they knew where he lived. His heart raced a little faster as his grip on Lethendralis tightened. Was it Danarius?

No, it couldn’t be.

And then, just as he could hear the doorknob being gripped and turned: he remembered that there was one other mage who knew where he slept.

At least, one other mage who would come to him at such a late hour.

The door opened, and Fenris suddenly recognized the faintly familiar pattern of the staff clunks, combined with the odd gait. The door closed, and Fenris relaxed as he turned around and stepped away from the armoire.

“Ahh! Andraste’s knickerweasels, Fenris! Don’t surprise me like that!”

Anders was standing a few paces away, one hand clutching at his robes while the other gripped his staff tightly as he held it close and leaned on it heavily for support. Fenris blinked, a little stunned himself at the mage’s surprise.

“I apologize,” he grumbled, inclining his head to the door. “I thought you were... someone else.” Anders chuckled sheepishly, setting down his belongings on a table pressed against a wall and leaning his staff nearby. “Really, Fenris? You forgot about me?” Laughter filtered in through each word which told Fenris that the mage’s affont was merely... well, a front, however he still felt guilty for having thought his mage might’ve been his former master.

“I did not mean to. I was... distracted.”

“How very unlike you,” Anders teased, removing his coat and draping it over a chair by the fire. Fenris’ ears twitched down and back as he felt his face flush.

“I should have been more aware. A distraction can mean the difference between life and death.” Anders sat down on the settee they’d dragged in not long after the mage had first started staying with him, and he motioned to Fenris for him to follow. “It’s alright, Fenris. I’m not angry.” Fenris met Anders’ eyes for a moment, and he appeared to have more words ready at his lips, yet chose to hold them back.

“What?” Fenris asked the mage pointedly as he sat down. “What is it? I know you have something to say.”

Anders frowned, appeared to debate with himself for a moment, finally sighing and shifting uneasily against the back of the settee. 

“I... know about distractions. Sometimes I feel that Justice thinks that... this is a distraction.” Anders gestured between the two of them. “But then I remind him that I am only human, and I need this. Companionship. Conversation.” Anders’ eyes flickered away. 

“And... copulation?” Fenris added, unable to keep the smirk from his lips.

Anders spluttered indignantly. “Um, well... I don’t really need _that_ , as I’ve already told you,” Anders chuffed. “I was going to say, ‘And the occasional glass of wine,’ but then you had to go and mention sex.” He shook his head, sighing as he reached forward to grab at the bottle of wine that rested on the small table between them and the fire, pouring himself a glass and handing Fenris the bottle. Anders paused just as Fenris was taking the bottle from his hand, the mage’s face scrunching up in what Fenris recognized as concern.

“Is... that what you were... distracted about, just now?”

Fenris ducked his head. It had been, actually, now that he was thinking clearly again. Anders took a sip of his wine and leaned gently against Fenris. “I know we talked about doing that for the first time tonight earlier this morning, but if you’re still uncomfortable, we can–”

“No, I do want it,” Fenris interrupted. 

“Then we should talk things out,” Anders said, finishing his glass. Fenris took a pull from the wine, and felt the heat of it fuel his courage as he took Anders’ glass and placed it on the table with the bottle before quickly pressing the mage against the settee. “What if I don’t want to? I have been thinking of nothing else, all day...”

Anders chuckled, managing to separate the two of them just a little by wriggling his arms between their chests and pressing his hands against Fenris’ collarbone. “Al–alright then, hold on. We at least need a safeword, in case I do anything to you that you’re not comfortable with. You told me this morning that you wanted to try receiving, yeah?”

The mage pushed Fenris gently as he sat up, stood up, and began leading Fenris to their bed. “Apples, then,” Fenris supplied. “Is that sufficient?”

Anders nodded. “Yes, of course.”

The kindness and concern in Anders’ eyes was so palpable that it nearly hurt. He wondered if the mage knew that he had such a profound effect on him, but then decided that he probably did not. He would likely fuss over Fenris if he knew of the ache that his warm weight across Fenris’ chest did to him every morning, or the tug on his heartstrings when he’d wake to one of the mage’s nightmares after having rolled away in the night.

But that was what had drawn them together in the first place. 

Concern. Fussing. Sharing a tiny, rickety bed in the cold, dark clinic and discovering how much it improved the quality of their rest. Initially, Fenris had been dismayed that Anders of all people could incite this sort of reaction in him, as had Anders himself. Yet neither was willing to relinquish their precious sleep for anything, and so they continued to share a sleeping space, only in Fenris’ stolen mansion where the bed was bigger, less rickety, and the room filled with the warmth of a large, roaring fire.

A kiss was pressed to his forehead, and Fenris felt the contact with the lyrium there as a kind of fuzzy tingling and not the pain he had once expected.

“Hey, you were far away for a bit,” Anders whispered, a hand trailing the skin of Fenris’ right arm. That was when he realized that they were both naked, or... mostly naked. He still had on his leggings, and Anders, his trousers. When had that happened?

“Sorry,” he apologized again, “I was... thinking about... how this started.”

Anders chuckled. “What, us sharing a bed? Or... us?”

“The first thing,” Fenris answered as Anders maneuvered him about until he lay on top of the mage. Anders laughed, and he could feel the vibrations as they rumbled through his chest. “Funny, I would’ve thought it to be the second thing. Sometimes I feel like I have to pinch myself to make certain that I’m not in the Fade.” Fenris frowned. “Why?”

Anders’ hands paused in their wandering exploration of Fenris’ back, and he exhaled quietly. “Because this is the sort of thing a demon would promise me. Not that they could, mind. There are some benefits to being me.”

To having Justice in his head, Fenris knew that Anders had refrained from saying. Though they had very recently acknowledged the blossoming attraction between themselves, things outside of their shared living space tended to remain as they were, meaning that slavers were still running slave trades and Templars were still ruling the Gallows with an iron fist. They tried to speak less of these things, so as not to ruin whatever it was that had formed between them, but sometimes such things seemed impossible to avoid mentioning.

Fenris pressed a similarly soft kiss to Anders’ forehead in the hopes that it would settle the mage’s worries. 

“Well, I promise you, we are not in the Fade. This is real...” he trailed off, moving to first kiss Anders’ full, plush lips for a moment before pulling away to continue, breathlessly, “...there are no promises here...” –another nibbling kiss left in the crook of Anders’ neck– “...none except those we make to one another.” Beneath him, Fenris felt Anders begin to respond to his weight and touches, with the kisses inciting the most delightful responses. 

 _He mewls like a kitten_ , Fenris thought. To his ears, there was no sweeter song.

“That’s... good to know,” Anders panted, fingers gently tugging at the hem of Fenris’ leggings. “Can I remove these?”

“As you please,” said Fenris, nodding. 

As the fabric was pulled over his ass, the two shifted until Fenris was sitting against the sheets, the smooth fabric beneath him only serving to arouse him further somehow. Anders took great care in removing the leggings, and Fenris could only watch, mesmerized, when his cock bobbed free. The leggings were carefully folded –exactly the way he preferred them!– and set aside where the rest of his things sat neatly next to the bed. 

“I hadn’t know you’d memorized my habits so meticulously,” Fenris confessed as Anders rummaged through a nearby drawer for something. It turned out to be a vial of oil, gleaming gold in the light of the fire. Anders’ resulting smile nearly stole away what was left of his breath.

“I found that I liked watching you,” Anders replied, adding, “and as it appears that it is my turn to confess, I mostly did it when you got up before dawn and thought that I was still asleep.”

Fenris felt his face flush, and Anders’ laughter only served to fuel that fire further. “I’m sorry,” Anders giggled. “I don’t mean to embarrass you!” Anders shifted closer, pulling Fenris close for a deeply consuming kiss as they lay back down on the bed. 

“I just like watching you,” Anders whispered, so quietly Fenris might’ve once mistaken it for one of the mage’s deepest, darkest secrets. “Now, I’m going to coat my fingers in oil, alright? Then I’m going to make you feel so good, I promise.” Anders purred with every whispered word, so much so that Fenris wondered if Anders was somehow distantly related to the felines he so loved.

Fenris watched as Anders did exactly that, and then the mage directed him to lie closer so that he could reach Fenris’ entrance from behind.

“This isn’t exactly the most ideal position,” Anders told him when Fenris asked about it, “but I thought it would be the most comfortable for you, what with you being able to see me an' all.” Anders flashed him a grin, and Fenris was once more struck with awe at the depths of the mage’s care for him. 

Fenris pressed against Anders as oiled fingers trailed the cleft of his ass before dipping further and teasing his puckered hole. For an instant when the first finger breached him, he tensed, but he forced himself to relax. This was Anders, not Danarius. _This_ mage had had more care for him even when they hated each other, when Danarius had likely never cared at all despite his assurances. 

A second finger joined the first after Fenris told Anders to continue, and then a third. The sensations were not unfamiliar, but the speed of them was. 

And then there was the pleasure of it. _Fasta vass_ , the pleasure.

Anders’ fingers pressed up against a spot inside him and curled just so that had him crying out and panting. The mage chuckled. “There it is. Your sweet spot. Also known as the prostate.” Anders sounded smug, but it was the kind of pleased smugness that came from a job well done.

“Do you feel up to taking me now?” Anders asked when he was able to meet Fenris’ eyes. “Or would you rather I just do this all night?”

Another press and curl had Fenris moaning deeply as Anders smiled. 

“Or I could give you the most amazing head of your life,” He continued, “I should still remember how to do it. Out of all the things I learned to do during that one escape, that has always been my favorite.”

Somehow, even as tempting as that was, Fenris felt that backing out of this was akin to cowardice. His mind knew that it wasn’t, however.

“As wonderful as that sounds, I would rather like to continue,” Fenris answered, and Anders’ fingers retreated briefly. Fenris was about to roll over and let Anders take the lead, but once again Anders pulled him on top to where he was sitting astride the mage’s thighs. Anders grinned at him from where he lay, sprawled like a cat before the sunlight. 

“I think you should ride me instead,” Anders insisted. “You’ll have more control that way.” Fenris was momentarily stunned while simultaneously grateful for the mage’s consideration. “You’ll have to help me get rid of my trousers first,” Anders said slyly, batting his eyes. “And I’ll give you the oil so you can slick me up? I’ve been a little distracted myself today, wondering what your touch would feel like on my cock...”

Fenris glanced down, and it was very evident that Anders was just as excited as he, despite not having been touched the entire time.

Anders had been so terribly considerate the entire night; why shouldn’t he repay a kindness for a kindness? It was his choice, after all. He had but to say the word and Anders would do whatever he preferred. He reached for the strings of the trousers and undid them incredibly slowly, palming the hardness there. He chuckled as he listened to Anders whine softly as he panted, eager for the cloth confines to be removed.

Fenris decided he wanted to hear Anders sing a little more. He had such a pretty voice, indeed.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the trousers eventually came off and were carefully folded and placed aside. When Fenris turned back to climb astride the mage’s thighs again, he was suddenly struck with how beautiful Anders was. Though he spent more time in the sun these days at Fenris’ insistence, he was still quite pale, though he glowed with an almost golden light. His hair fell in amber-red waves about his face: it looked in need of a trim, again.

“See something you like?” Anders teased halfheartedly. There was a touch of vulnerability in his voice, his posture. The scars that littered his chest were probably the culprit, as were the ones sneaking around from behind. Fenris bent low and kissed the burn scar over his heart, moved to the one on his right cheek, and another above his left temple. 

“Yes,” Fenris breathed. “All of you.” 

He leaned back and fumbled in the sheets a bit for the vial of oil, uncorking it briefly to coat one hand in it before setting it on top of the same dresser it had come from. He grabbed Anders’ cock –and oh how sweetly he sang then– to oil it up good and proper. Then he lifted himself up to position the tip at his entrance, pausing briefly to catch Anders’ gaze.

“Whenever you’re ready, love,” Anders murmured.

Fenris sank down slowly, and suddenly his senses were bombarded with pleasure upon pain, their initial cries and gasps intermingling until Fenris was fully seated. Then the world quieted to just their harsh breaths and thudding hearts. Beneath him, Anders mewled softly.

“You feel... so good, F–Fen...”

“And you feel... incredible.” Fenris seemed to have no other words.

Anders reached out and took one of his hands, threading their fingers together. “And there’s no pain? You still feeling alright?” Fenris nodded. “It hurt a little, in the beginning, but now... it is... so much more...”

Anders chuckled. “Feel up to moving yet?”

Fenris gave his hips a little swivel, causing them both to gasp. “Yes,” he panted, “ _Venhedis_ , yes.” Another laugh escaped the mage. “Maker, I love it when you talk dirty to me.” 

“I shall have to find better ways to do so,” Fenris teased, and then lifted his hips, the sweet slide of skin against skin feeling absolutely divine.

After that, their bodies’ intuition led them in this dance, with hands and mouths roaming wherever they pleased, drawing out and enhancing the pleasure that they were already sharing. One particular rise caused Anders’ hips to shift, and he thrust upwards just as Fenris was sliding down. Fenris moaned, whining a little as the pleasure faded. He was so close.

Anders, of course, picked up on that right away.

“You can let go,” Anders crooned, “I’ve got you, I promise.” Anders grasped Fenris’ cock and that was when Fenris lost all trains of coherent thought. All he could feel was the pleasure, the safety, and Anders’ hands on his hips and his cock. Anders changed his angle again, and then he was bludgeoning Fenris’ sweet spot, sending wave after wave of stars across his vision.

He came with a harsh shout moments later, but Anders was still thrusting.

His mewls had turned into something else, sharper and higher pitched, but in the aftershock of his climax, they sounded like the loveliest symphony to Fenris.

“You can come in me,” Fenris whispered roughly in one of Anders’ ears. “You’re safe here. I have you.”

“Fen, Fen, Fen...” Anders panted, his hips jerking faster.

Fenris pulled back to swivel his hips and tweak the mage’s nipples _just so_...

“Sing for me, Anders.”

“Fen, Fen, Fen-nn- _nyaaa_ ~!”

Fenris stared at Anders, absolutely flabbergasted by the sound that he hardly felt the warmth of Anders’ cum filling him. It was such an indescribable sound, and was so strange to his ears that it was enough to set Fenris laughing into the pillows after disentangling their bodies from one another.

He managed to sneak a peek at the mage moment later, and Anders’ face was quite red from some terrible realization.

“Maker,” he breathed, “I didn’t think that I still did that.” 

Fenris snorted. “Don’t be embarrassed,” he said, grinning wolfishly. “I quite enjoyed the sounds you made. Do you really do that, every time?”

Somehow, Anders seemed to flush a deeper red.

“Um, yes. I... I had hoped that after so long, I would’ve stopped, but... it’s just a thing I do, I guess.” 

Fenris leaned over and drew the mage’s lips to his.

“I don’t mind it. You sound like those cats you so adore. In fact, I’d like to hear it again.” As he said this, Anders groaned, and Fenris glanced down to see Anders take himself in hand and start stroking. He looked back at Anders with a raised eyebrow.

“Uh, warden... stamina,” Anders bit out through gritted teeth, panting. “Once I... get started... it’s... hard to stop.”

Fenris grinned, and grabbed Anders’ hand to replace it with his own.

“Well, why don’t you let me help you out a bit?”

Anders mewled, and Fenris’ heart soared, eager to hear the mage sing for him once more.


End file.
